


Campfire

by fiercy, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Chris Hemsworth and Henry Cavill [6]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Superman RPF, Thor (Movies) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 16:08:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6526924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiercy/pseuds/fiercy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Chris Hemsworth/Henry Cavill storyline in the BDSM RPS RPG <a href="http://citadel.dreamwidth.org/read">Citadel</a>. If you're interested in joining, please contact the mods as listed <a href="http://citadel-info.dreamwidth.org/995.html#cutid1">here</a>.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Campfire

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Chris Hemsworth/Henry Cavill storyline in the BDSM RPS RPG [Citadel](http://citadel.dreamwidth.org/read). If you're interested in joining, please contact the mods as listed [here](http://citadel-info.dreamwidth.org/995.html#cutid1).

The tent is up, the horses fed and watered, a fire started and dinner in a pot over the fire. "How spicy do you like your chili?" Chris asks Henry over his shoulder, bottle of hot sauce hovering over the bubbling concoction.

"Medium. I like to be able to taste it, the burn notwithstanding," Henry calls back, gathering the last of the rope for the bear bag and tossing it over the second sturdy limb. He pretends he didn't miss the first time when he hits it just right the second.

Chris adds two drops then three, tastes it and adds a few more. Hopefully his idea of medium and Henry's match. "You ever seen a bear out here?" he asks.

"Twice, actually. Both of them from a respectable distance. Never had a problem, but then I always string up my cooler."

Chris nods. "I saw one on the highway last year. Black bear. It ran across the road behind my car."

"I have a healthy respect for them, but I don't worry too much," Henry says with a shrug, wandering back over to the fire and settling in. "I've seen bears at Citadel that were much scarier," he adds with a grin.

Chris laughs. "No kidding." He laughs even harder, thinking of the some of the men he's seen at the club. Smiling at Henry. "You are so fucking sexy."

Henry's grin morphs into a warm, pleased smile. "Thanks. You, too. These last couple of weeks have been an exercise in wet dreams . . . I can't even articulate some of them, they're so hot. I just have this vague impression of you and sex and . . . well, fulfillment."

"I know what you mean," Chris says, giving the chili a stir. "I don't think there's been a night I haven't dreamt of you."

"And yet, I have no idea what this . . . relationship . . . is this a relationship?" Henry pauses to ask, "I have no idea what it's going to look like."

Chris sits back. "Yeah, of course, it's a relationship," he says, surprised by Henry's uncertainty. "Why wouldn't it be?"

Henry watches him for a moment and finally smiles. "We barely know each other. Less than twenty four hours ago, we didn't know that the other was gay, much less kinky. I'm wondering if this is," he pauses to gather his words, then goes on, baring all his thoughts. "I'm wondering if we're starting up with a foundation of sex and fantasy--excited about something we've always wanted and never thought we'd have--rather than a Henry-and-Chris-belong-together kind of thing." Again he pauses, this time in frustration, unable to articulate his concerns. "Does that make any sense at all?"

Chris nods, heart sinking a little. "It does, but don't you think the fact that we're so drawn to each other, that we wanted to break our codes so badly for each other... don't you think that means we're meant to be together?" he says softly. "I kind of thought it was fate."

Henry's smile blooms. "I think I just needed to hear you say that, and I didn't even realize it." Shifting onto his hands and knees, he moves over to Chris, kneeling there in front of him. "Fate. I was afraid it was just me thinking that."

"It wasn't," Chris promises, cupping the nape of Henry's neck with one large hand and drawing him in for a kiss. "I've never felt this strongly about anyone."

The soft sound of want that accompanies the kiss is automatic, the warmth that comes from Chris's words is welcome. "Me neither," Henry murmurs, "from the moment I met you, I felt like you were pulling me in. Like some huge gravity suck," he adds playfully at the end.

"Mm. Suck." Chris grins. "That reminds me..." he kisses Henry again, licking into his mouth. Finally, reluctantly, pulling back. "We'd better eat that chili before we have to scrape it from the bottom of the pot," he says. "But after dinner, we'll see about getting my hand on your ass."

Groaning, Henry pulls away and settles back down on said ass, picking up their bowls and leaning forward to spoon chili into them. Chris first, then his own, of course. The thought of his ass open to the night, nothing between him and the world but Chris's hand has his cock going from semi-hard to on point. "Good Christ," he mutters, but he's still smiling.

"You didn't think you were going to get through dinner without teasing, did you?" Chris says, noting the bulge in Henry's jeans as he takes a first bite, nodding appreciatively. It's been a while since they ate and the fresh air always leaves him starving.

"You're one of those evil doms, aren't you?" Henry asks with narrowed eyes and lips twitching into a smile. The way that his cock jerks suggests he really doesn't have a problem with that.

Chris laughs. "Probably," he confesses after thinking about it for a moment. "I've never had a chance to test how I'd want to be on a day-to-day basis -- and not that we'll have that, except maybe on weekends and when we manage to get some time off at the same time, but yes, I tend to like to... push and tease and... torment."

Reminding himself to eat, Henry turns that over in his mind for a while, then decides honesty is definitely the best policy. "I'm not entirely sure how I'll respond to it," he admits. "I've never really been pushed that much psychologically. Physically I've sought to take more over the years, but the kind of scenes I've done haven't been that difficult mentally. I mean, I've only ever had to submit when I felt like it, you know?"

Chris nods. "I think it's something we'll have to work out together," he says. "Find that balance that makes us both happy."

"It could be a wild turn-on, actually," Henry says with a nod in agreement. "I just can't be sure. I am absolutely looking forward to finding out, however. And the teasing so far has been fun . . . and hot."

"Given the way we've reacted to each other so far?" Chris grins. "I don't think compatibility's going to be an issue."

"No, not a problem at all." In fact, Henry's body is reminding him just how compatible. The thrum of arousal has him licking his lips, and despite how hungry their trip has made him, his food is the last thing on his mind. He makes himself eat for the energy, anyway.

Chris basically wolfs down his chili, scraping the last from the bowl and then carefully rinsing it out. "Did you get enough to eat?" he asks Henry, well aware that he doesn't want his lover to have had too much either. It doesn't matter whether it's sex or scening. Neither's good on a too-full stomach.

"Yeah, it was great. Thanks for cooking." Dumping the rest of his chili back into the pot, Henry rinses his bowl out as well. He's satisfied without being too full, and he smiles, looking up through his lashes at Chris. It hits him again just how incredibly beautiful Chris is.

"I have a few dishes I do well," Chris says softly, feeling his heart start to race and his cock start to harden again. "Take your clothes off," he orders.

Henry starts slightly. Baring his ass to the fish and animals is one thing, but baring _all_ of him? He'd not expected that. He swallows hard, but his now-trembling fingers begin to unbutton his shirt. "Yes, sir," he murmurs in answer, clearing his throat just after in case he needs to speak again.

"Are you afraid someone else is going to come up here and see you?" Chris asks, watching Henry, every movement of his fingers, every inch of skin exposed.

"I think it's not completely beyond the realm of possibility," Henry answers, a little breathless--though that has little to do with fear. Shrugging out of his shirt, he starts on his hiking boot laces.

"I don't know how we'd explain me spanking you," Chris says casually, enjoying himself. There's too many trees and dry branches on the ground for anyone to sneak up on them. "But right now, you're just changing."

Spanking. How can two syllables carry such a punch? Henry shivers, part cool evening air, part excitement, as he pulls off his shoes and socks and stands. "No, that part would be hard to wave away," he murmurs, struggling with the button on his jeans. Finally it pops free and he carefully unzips, pushing down both jeans and underwear. His cock, hard and damp, springs to life, and he shivers again as the wet meets the cool and turns it cold.

Softly cursing under his breath, Chris shakes his head, drinking Henry in, his gaze filled with wonder. He reaches out and grabs Henry by the cock, tugging him closer. "You're going to have a tough time riding tomorrow if I do this," he tells him, grinning widely.

"God I hope so," Henry says with a little bit of moan in his voice. He winks, draping his pants over one of the logs by the fire and standing there, arms at his sides.

"Good. Over my knees, boy," Chris orders, releasing his grip on Henry's cock with a smile.

Henry's shuddering on the way down: down to his knees and down the mental rabbit hole. "Yes, sir," he answers clearly but quietly, and then pushes himself up and over Chris's lap. It takes a moment to find a position that works, but eventually most of his weight is balanced on Chris, his fingertips digging into the soft earth they'd dug around the fire pit to stabilize himself. His cock? It's rock hard and tucked between the rough denim of Chris's jeans.

Chris lays a hand on Henry's ass, rubbing it slowly over both cheeks, mesmerized by the unblemished skin, the unmarked canvas. He shifts, just a little, easing the ache at his groin, and lets his fingers dip into the cleft, tease over that tightly puckered hole.

Henry reacts predictably to the touch, his body at first tightening at the brush of Chris's fingers. His skin breaking out in goose bumps, he sucks in a deep breath and blows it out slowly, opening to whatever Chris will have him take.

Chris's hand starts out slowly, almost gently, spanking Henry's firm well-muscled cheeks, palm landing dead centre, right across both. It's almost a tease except not. Not when his breath sticks in his throat and his cock is already so hard he swears it might break if he touched it.

Henry's soft cry is almost all breath, just a quiet huff born mostly of surprise. He shudders again, his back arching a bit more to present his ass for more. The rapidly cooling night air, flowing between Chris's hand and his ass, has his skin pebbling up again with goose bumps. He waits for more. Eagerly.

Easing into a rhythm, Chris's hand comes in harder and still harder, the sound it makes on eager flesh music to his ears.

The burn comes slowly, the first few blows from Chris's hand registering as all impact and noise. Once it begins, though, it builds quickly on itself under the relentless assault, fire bursting with each connection of flesh on flesh, then spreading outward. He's crying out by the tenth strike, the noise carrying over the calm lake, the night sounds stopping abruptly as if everything in range is holding its breath.

Skin reddening under his palm and Henry's cries filling the air, Chris keeps going, his palm slowly numbing as Henry's ass turns the same colour as the fire before them, blue starting to seep up between the red as he hits even harder, determined Henry will be feeling this for days.

The pain is getting both harder and easier to take. Henry is barely keeping himself from jerking out of position with each strike of Chris's hand, but instantly the pain is soothed as Henry lets the endorphins have their run. He's hurting, but he's flying, sound beyond grunts of effort and harsh exhales coming farther between as he both works--and succeeds--to turn the pain to something else.

Finally Chris stops. He can barely feel his hand at all but his cock? His cock's a throbbing mess. "I want you on your hands and knees in the tent," he says, it being all he can do to force himself to take the next step privately.

Henry's trembling, his body on fire, his psyche in that place he craves. 

He doesn't bother getting up, not sure he could if he tries, he just crawls over the grass, dirt, rocks and twigs and takes his place in the tent. He _wants_ so much right now he can't even begin to name it all.

Following Henry into the tent, Chris strips down naked, kneeling behind him. He reaches for the lube and slicks his cock, wiping the extra between Henry's cheeks before draping his body over him. "Don't worry. I'm not going to fuck you," he whispers, sliding his cock along Henry's cleft, the other man's skin hot, so hot against his groin.

 _Fuck_ it's good. Chris curled around him, making him feel enveloped and--dare he say it--protected is overwhelming, and Henry drops five steps at once into subspace. His groan has a touch of desperation to go with the pain of flesh against his burning flesh as he feels Chris's cock so very close and so damn far away. He wants to tell him. Wants him to just _do_ it, but even this far into the subspace basement his years of self-protection keep him back from that. He stays silent, just letting Chris drive.

"Oh god. You feel so good," Chris whispers, kissing the back of Henry's shoulders as he thrusts between his cheeks, the heat and friction and threat of how close he is to just fucking Henry, of shoving into him, bare and hot and so fucking tight... He groans and thrusts harder, determined to keep to this.

This . . . _this_ is driving Henry mad. Straight around the bend. Every inch of his ass is on fire from the spanking--Chris had proved as good at that as Henry had hoped, actually better--and every corner of his psyche is on fire from this tease. He whimpers softly at a bump to his hole, fighting to keep his cheeks tight for Chris when all he wants to do is drop down to his elbows, spread his legs wide and offer himself like the bitch he's quickly becoming for this man.

Driving himself closer and closer to the edge, Chris slides a hand under Henry, wrapping it around his cock and stroking in time with his thrusts. "You're going to come for me, aren't you?" he demands, gasping sharply as his cock catches on Henry's hole again. "Give me every last drop."

"Everything," Henry pants, after the cry that came all the way from his cock up out into the night air with Chris's touch. "All of it," he assures him, and then he cries out again, shaking and shuddering apart under the warmth of Chris's body.

All of it -- the wet heat in his hand, the way Henry moves and cries out under him -- _all of it_ pushes Chris over. He comes almost violently, rising up, his cock spurting thick strands of white all over Henry's lower back, the lines sliding lower, running between his cheeks, over his hole and balls.

The first strand hitting Henry is almost shocking, a hot streak on his back. The next feels hotter still on the sensitive skin stretched taut now as he shifts his weight, spreading his legs to struggle to stay upright. He drops his head, panting for breath, a low, keening moan sounding from his throat.

"The next time like this?" Chris whispers, his hands on Henry's hips, thumbs rubbing circles through the mess he's made. "I'll be inside you."

Henry manages a shiver at that, dropping to his elbows a moment later on the soft surface of the sleeping bags. Inside. Just skin and more skin. He groans and spreads his legs wider, still swirling in subspace.

"It's okay. Lie down," Chris says, pulling back and dropping to one side on top of their sleeping bags. Henry pulled into his arms.

Henry curls well. He hasn't done it much in his life, hasn't really felt that terribly moved to cuddle with house staff very often, but he does it now, clinging to Chris, giving himself permission to be vulnerable in a way that's not completely brand new, but is unusual. And he lets himself float.

Chris presses a kiss to Henry's forehead, brushing his hair back from his temples, and tugs the sleeping bags and an extra blanket around them until he's certain they'll be warm enough if they simply fall asleep. "You were so good for me," he murmurs. "I'm really proud of you."

The praise sends warmth through him that's better than any from the sleeping bags. He smiles and it feels a little drunken, as he snuggles down against Chris and tries to speak. "For you," is all he manages to get out.


End file.
